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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24330529">Minuets I &amp; II</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/shimadagans/pseuds/shimadagans'>shimadagans</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Butterfly Suite [5]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Classical Music, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Music school AU, Rodrigue Achille Fraldarius is a Good Parent</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 06:08:57</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,103</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24330529</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/shimadagans/pseuds/shimadagans</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>[ When Sylvain catches him staring, he just shakes his head, “It’s nothing. It’s just…I’m not used to seeing you so happy. I didn’t see you like this around campus.” Or before that.<br/>He almost regrets his choice of words when Sylvain’s face morphs into thoughtfulness, but then he’s presented with the cat plush, and he’s smiling again, but softer this time, “Maybe it’s because hanging out with you like this makes me happy, y’know?” ]<br/>The holiday break is upon them, and though he's supposed to be relaxing, Felix can't help but feel uneasy.</p><p>Part five of a series. Highly recommended to read the others first.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd &amp; Felix Hugo Fraldarius &amp; Ingrid Brandl Galatea &amp; Sylvain Jose Gautier, Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Butterfly Suite [5]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1506608</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>33</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Minuets I &amp; II</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Felix would like to say that they ease into break. It’s a welcome change, really, from the stress of the end of the semester, a refreshing glimpse of life outside the campus library and the music building’s practice rooms. He’s even kind of worked things out with Sylvain, who sneaks him a kiss every morning before they head down to breakfast. Fraldarius Sr. will usually have the TV tuned to the news, or, on Saturdays, that one cartoon Felix will never, ever own up to enjoying. Sylvain will nudge his leg under the table, and they’ll either laze around or his dad will enlist their help in some menial household task he swears he’s been meaning to do.</p><p>Really, though, he can’t help but feel a little uneasy. Things are going too well, he thinks, and while he’s really trying to enjoy this, whatever this is developing between he and the object of his ridiculous years-old affections, part of him is waiting for the other foot to drop. He mentions as much to Ingrid over the phone when Sylvain heads out to teach an impromptu lesson one morning, sitting by the warm fireplace in the library where they all used to pretend to be witches and wizards (or a dragon, in Felix’s case).</p><p>“I’d ask why you think that,” she all but sighs over the line, all the way over at her dad’s place out west, with approximately 3 of her siblings shouting in the background, “Hey! Quit hitting your brother! Anyway, I get the same feeling, sometimes, after…” The pause is more than enough time for the library to suddenly feel about 10 degrees cooler, “Yeah, I get what you’re saying. But maybe this is just good. I mean, it sure took you guys long enough.”</p><p>“Huh?” he manages, almost choking on his tea for not the first nor last time in his life, “What the hell does that mean?”</p><p>“Language, you’re on speaker,” she chides him, rustling around in the background, “It <em>means</em> that the rest of us have been waiting for <em>something</em> to happen between the two of you. Wasn’t sure what, my bet was on you knocking him out and deciding to never speak to him again but, with the way you look at each other when the other isn’t looking…” she snorts, “Well, let’s just say you sure don’t look at Dimitri like that.”</p><p>Now he’s warm for an entirely different reason, and even though he knows both his dad and Sylvain are out, he looks around to make sure nobody can see him flushing. “Yeah, well. You barely even know what happened!”</p><p>“I heard enough from Dorothea to figure it out,” he can just hear her smiling knowingly, “Please tell me you guys aren’t going to be <em>that</em> couple. Dimitri might be polite enough to look the other way, but I <em>will</em> gag if you guys get all PDA.”</p><p>“Ingrid, do you really think that I’d let that happen? And we’re not a…a couple!” he scoffs, though in his head he’s definitely weighing the options.</p><p>“Right, sure, might wanna talk to him about that,” she hums, and there’s a scream that’s either gleeful or terrified, and she sighs again, “Sorry, gotta go, think one of the kiddos body slammed the screen door. I’ll see you at your dad’s big holiday party, right?”</p><p>“As if he’d let me skip,” Felix grumbles, and Ingrid laugh cuts cut out when she hangs up. He heads to the kitchen after a glance at the time to boil more water for tea, and he gets a mug out for Sylvain too, shuffling through the cupboards for the bergamot he’d insisted on picking up for Sylvain’s stay. The word ‘couple’ weighs heavy in his ears, like a distant horn call or something equally as dramatic, and he shakes his head at himself; <em>no use worrying about things like that. We can just…talk about it.</em></p><p>Right. Because he’s always been <em>so </em>good at talking about his feelings.</p>
<hr/><p>The thing is, he doesn’t really get the chance to talk he’s looking for. During the day, his dad really amps up the pre-holiday party housekeeping, which includes everything from dusting the attic for some reason, to helping him set up all 27 of his magnificently tacky holiday inflatable lawn decorations.</p><p>“I swear he’s gong senile in his old age,” Felix huffs as he and Sylvain lug a chunky snowman wearing a light-up scarf across the lawn, “There’s no way he needs all of these things out here, everybody sees the same thing every year when they come.”</p><p>“Fe, your dad’s like, 50, he’s not going senile,” Sylvain answers, sounding not nearly out-of-breath enough, “And that’s the point, yeah? He’s got standards to maintain, now. Everyone will <em>expect</em> all the pomp.”</p><p>“That’s right, Sylvain!” calls his dad from the sidewalk, surveying their work with a hand on his chin, “Now, a little more to the left…”</p><p>When they’re not helping his old man, Sylvain’s out teaching. He swears its just because people keep asking him for favors, or it’s an old classmate asking for tips for their grad auditions, but one morning, he catches Sylvain trying to give his dad money in some misguided attempt at gratitude. His dad just shakes his head, smiles at him, and says “We don’t treat family like that here, Sylvain. Don’t worry about it.”</p><p>Nobody mentions Sylvain’s slightly wet eyes, but Felix gets a watery smile over their pancakes and a particularly sweet kiss before Sylvain heads out.</p><p>And when neither Sylvain’s lessons nor his dad’s requests keep them busy, Sylvain wants to <em>go </em>places, because of course he does. He’s never been able to just sit still, and now is no exception, but Felix is too weak of a man to say no when his…boyfriend (? Partner? Friend-who-he-sometimes-kisses-now?) asks<br/>
“Pretty please?” to go to the art museum downtown, or to that one mall they haven’t been to in years. He never regrets it, either, treated to a front row seat of Sylvain’s glowing, bright happiness. He gets excited over the dumbest shit, like when that one photographer he really likes has a few works in the museum, or when that shitty arcade they used to hit up after school is still up and running, and he drags Felix in with him to see if their high score is still up on that one zombie co-op booth. When they walk out an hour later, Sylvain is clutching one of those extremely floppy cat plushies—he’s unfairly good at the crane games, really—and his eyes are alight with such unadulterated joy that Felix is caught completely off guard. When Sylvain catches him staring, he just shakes his head, “It’s nothing. It’s just…I’m not used to seeing you so happy. I didn’t see you like this around campus.” <em>Or before that.</em></p><p>He almost regrets his choice of words when Sylvain’s face morphs into thoughtfulness, but then he’s presented with the cat plush, and he’s smiling again, but softer this time, “Maybe it’s because hanging out with you like this makes me happy, y’know?” While Felix’s mind is reeling and he’s just standing there holding the cat plush like a fool, Sylvain loops their arms together and starts tugging him towards the food court, moaning that he’s just “Soooooo hungry. Wow, Fe, that cat kinda looks like you...”</p><p>Felix knows a subject change when he sees and hears one, but he lets it slide, wondering for the first time if maybe he’s not the only one who’s feeling nervous.</p>
<hr/><p>The evening of his dad’s annual holiday party arrives, and with it come droves of people who Felix internally ranks from ‘tolerable’ to ‘if I never saw them again I’d be better for it’ as he sips mulled wine from one of those plastic cups designed to look fancy. He has to admit to himself that between the three of them, they’ve managed to get the place looking pretty festive. The ugly, sparkly garland that hangs above the entryway should’ve gotten tossed, though, in his opinion.</p><p>Ingrid tracks him down with her weird sixth sense as soon as she gets there, despite his best efforts to make himself unseen, all the way in the corner of the sitting room, far away from where his slightly tipsy father is trying to rope people into a game of charades. She plops down into the armchair across from him and looks over his shoulder, “Too much noise for you, over by your dad?”</p><p>Felix shrugs; he’s never been a fan of crowds, known or otherwise, and while its nice to see him happy, he’s also not fond of most of his extended family, and vice versa. The comment sections of Fraldarius Sr.’s supportive Facebook posts have gotten more divisive lately, with many an aunt or uncle asking about when Felix is going to ‘settle down already’, and at almost 19, he’s not about to have that conversation over social media, let alone in person.</p><p>Ingrid looks around, though they’re the only people in this corner of the room, “Where’s Sylvain?”</p><p>He almost says, “I’m not his keeper,” but holds his tongue, sipping instead, then shrugging one more, “Dunno. Last time I saw him, some old friend of Dad’s was talking to him about how school’s going.” He doesn’t mention how soft and warm Sylvain had looked when he squeezed Felix’s hand and told him to go ahead, that he’d catch up. Ingrid eyes him like she knows exactly what happened anyway. “Well, he better get over here soon, before all the drinks are gone. It’s not like everyone took the BYOB suggestion way too literally.” Felix shakes his head at the reminder of the copious amount of drinks stockpiled in the kitchen.</p><p>Dimitri find them next, though he has to politely yet firmly fend off some older lady that has clearly overestimated her tolerance and charm. Felix laughs at him as Dimitri lets his head loll back against his seat, grunting appreciatively when Ingrid hands him a drink. “I was trying not to be rude,” he manages after a solid gulp, “She just. Would not stop flattering me.”</p><p>“’Flattering’, right,” Felix snorts at him, glancing at the batty old crone, “Think that’s one of the donors for the orchestra. She always stays after concerts for the meet-and-greets, and always tries to find someone to attach herself too. Guess you’re her target tonight.”</p><p>Dimitri just immerses himself in his drink, and Ingrid keeps watch for any more brazen old ladies. Felix is content to just observe and wait for Sylvain to get back, but he starts getting antsy after about ten minutes. He doesn’t do a good enough job at keeping it in check, clearly, because Dimitri asks, “Is everything okay?” and it takes him a considerable amount of willpower not to snap at him. “Yeah, everything’s fine, just wondering what’s taking Sylvain so long.”</p><p>“Maybe that lady found him,” Ingrid mutters, conspiratorially, and that eases a bit of the tension out from between his shoulder blades, just in time for all of them to hear muffled yelling from the entryway.</p><p>Felix is up first, but he hears the other two following him closely as he darts through merry-makers on his way to an all-too-familiar set of voices, a ball of dread settling in his stomach. He hurtles around the last corner, and down the hallway, having seemingly just stepped through the door, are the Gautiers and Sylvain. The older Gautiers are, of course, dressed to the nines under their stupid, extravagantly expensive designer coats, and the way Sylvain’s disgusting excuse for a father points at Sylvain while his mother stands quietly to the side makes his blood boil.</p><p>“…. Utterly disrespectful, deciding to come back to Fhirdiad on holiday without telling us. And choosing to stay here, inconveniencing the Fraldarius family when you could’ve just as easily stayed at home? Preposterous.” Gautier Sr. is just as imposing as he’s always been, the greys among the copper framing his temples only adding to his frosty air as he stares reproachfully at Sylvain, “You are not behaving in a manner befitting your status as heir. We allowed you to attend that university all the way at Garreg Mach with the expectation that it would get rid of some of your frivolous tendencies, but here you are, being naught but a nuisance.” He sniffs disdainfully, not aware yet of his audience and gestures for his wife’s arm, “We will apologize on your behalf, and then we will be leaving.”</p><p>“No,” says Sylvain, and though Felix can’t see his expression from here, he can see all the weight he’s carrying in his shoulders and clenched fists, and his voice gets louder, “No, I’m not going with you. I’m not going <em>anywhere</em> with you. I’m not a <em>kid</em> anymore, you can’t just show up to drag me wherever you want!”</p><p>This gets him a shocked look from the older man before his face goes stony, “You are certainly acting like a child, Sylvain. You will be returning to the estate with us tonight, and I will hear nothing else—”</p><p>“No,” Sylvain repeats, breathless even though he hasn’t moved, his posture going even tighter, “I won’t.”</p><p>“You are an insolent, wretched—” Mr. Gautier steps closer, raises his hand to do <em>something</em> but Felix feels himself moving before he knows what’s happening, putting himself right between the two men, getting right in Gautier Sr.’s face, “Don’t you dare touch him, you bastard,” he seethes, and now the other people nearby are definitely staring, some starting to edge away from the confrontation. Mr. Gautier seems surprised at his appearance, but he slips back into some semblance of cordiality, “Young Mr. Fraldarius, I wasn’t aware that you were around. My apologies for my son’s…. abhorrent behavior, and for making fools of ourselves in your home. We were just about to leave.”</p><p>“You’re leaving, not him,” Felix crosses his arms, trying his damn best to keep a cap on the fury boiling in him just below the surface, knowing Sylvain, Ingrid, and Dimitri are all still there, as are a number of guests, “<em>He’s</em> a guest here. You’re not.”</p><p>“Of course, Felix,” comes Mrs. Gautier’s quiet, icy voice, though she seems to be trying to diffuse the situation as best as she can, taking her husband’s arm again, “We will be going, then.”</p><p>“What’s going on here?” Felix hears his dad <em>finally</em> coming down the hallway, but he doesn’t turn away, glare rigidly fixed on the unwanted guests, “Augustin? Jacqueline? What an…unexpected pleasure. What are you two doing here?” His tone goes from friendly to flat in seconds as he strides up the entryway, the crowd clearing as he passes.</p><p>“We were just taking our leave, Rodrigue,” Mrs. Gautier nods at him, tugging ineffectually at her husbands arm once more, her tone tense, “I apologize for—”</p><p>“You have been housing my son,” Mr. Gautier barks as he steps away from his wife again, and Felix can just feel Sylvain tensing behind him again, so he reaches for his hand, unsure of what else he can do, “For the holiday, is that correct?”</p><p>“Well, yes,” his dad answers, glancing between the two Gautier men, “He had mentioned he’d been planning on spending the break alone, otherwise, so naturally Felix and I offered him a place to stay, away from the stress of campus.”</p><p>“He was offered a place to stay at <em>home</em>,” Gautier Sr.’s eyes dart from Rodrigue to Sylvain and back again, “Where he should be, so we had come to collect him. I trust there is no issue in this?”</p><p>“I’m afraid there is,” his dad’s tone is back to pleasant, but all Felix can feel is how Sylvain’s hand shakes in his, so he squeezes it and finally turns to look at him. He’s gone as pale as snow, and the dim lighting in the hall does nothing to hide the fear and anger in his eyes and the line of his mouth.</p><p>“I don’t believe Sylvain wants to stay with you during break, and we have no problem having him stay here, isn’t that right Felix?”</p><p>He doesn’t trust his mouth not to say something that will re-escalate the conversation, so he just turns, makes direct eye contact with the heaping pile of shit in his doorway and nods.</p><p>“See? Don’t you worry, Sylvain will be plenty <em>safe </em>and <em>happy</em> here with us. Now,” the older Fraldarius claps his hands together in a show of finality, “I don’t believe there were any other Gautiers on my guest list for the evening, so I’ll trust you’ll show yourselves out? I wouldn’t want to make anyone else here feel...unwelcome.”</p><p>There’s a beat of heavy silence before Mr. Gautier turns and wrenches open the front door, marching out into the snow. Mrs. Gautier turns, gives a hasty, “Good night,” and follows him, closing the door tightly behind her. Felix’s dad sighs, then turns to them, shaking his head, “Sorry, Sylvain. I should’ve had someone on door duty.”</p><p>“N-no, it’s alright, sir,” Sylvain manages, squeezing Felix’s hand like it’s a lifeline, “I’m, uh. Sorry for causing a commotion,” he tries for a laugh, but it’s shaky and uneven.</p><p>“Nonsense, my boy,” Rodrigue clasps his shoulder, making steady eye contact with him, “Don’t you apologize for just being here. Nothing good will come of that.” He waits until he gets a nod from the younger man, then he turns to Felix, speaking more quietly, “Keep an eye on him, alright?” When he also gets a nod from Felix, he gives Ingrid and Dimitri a smile, too, “Alright, kiddos, back to doing whatever it is you young folk do for fun nowadays. If you’ll excuse me, I’ve got guests to entertain!”</p><p>They watch his retreating back or a few moments before Sylvain breaks the silence, “Still got your old GameCube hooked up, Fe?”</p>
<hr/><p>They end up spending the rest of the evening in the basement, playing old video games none of them have touched in years. Felix kicks everyone’s ass in Smash Bros until they get tired of losing (“Fe, you always win when you pick Marth, can’t you play someone else?” “<em>You</em> play someone else.”) and then Ingrid and Sylvain mercilessly crush him and Dimitri in Mario Kart. All the while, though, he’s hyper aware of Sylvain nearby, and more than once, he catches himself staring, or Sylvain staring at him. It’s late by the time Ingrid’s dad calls down the stairs that it’s time for her and Dimitri to come on up, that he’s already herded the rest of the Galatea kids to the door. He gets a warm hug from Ingrid, a crushing one from Dimitri that he just barely allows, and they trudge up the stairs, barely awake.</p><p>Then, its just him and Sylvain.</p><p>The menu theme for Mario Kart still loops softly in the background, but now it’s just them, sinking into the old leather couch his dad always refused to get rid of. There’s a moment of quiet between them where they’re just looking at each other then—</p><p>“Hey, Fe—”</p><p>“Sylvain—”</p><p>They both stop and Sylvain starts laughing, quietly at first, and then he can’t seem to stop, and Felix is laughing too. Eventually they’re both gasping for breath, and Sylvain reaches for his hand, loosely playing with his fingers, “Okay, okay, you first.”</p><p>“No, you first,” he counters, content to let Sylvain continue.</p><p>“Fine, fine,” he says, fond enough that Felix can feel the corners of his lips turning up just slightly, “I just wanted to say thanks, for earlier.”</p><p>“For what? You mean,” and he stops himself, remembering the tremor in Sylvain’s voice, “There’s no need to thank me for that. And if they show up again, I’ll knock him out.”</p><p>“That’s,” Sylvain sighs and tugs Felix closer so he doesn’t have to reach so far, “That’s kinda why I feel like I have to thank you. You’ve never been...afraid of him. Hell, I don’t think I’ve seen you scared since we saw clowns at the state fair that one year.”</p><p>“Clowns are freaky, okay?” he huffs, but there’s no venom behind it, and he feels Sylvain’s answering chuckle more than he hears it, with how close they are now. His weight against Felix’s side is almost too warm, “I get scared sometimes, I guess. I’m just not scared of <em>him</em>. And even if I was, I’d still do that if he tried something as stupid as that again.” The <em>for you</em> goes unsaid, but the way Sylvain hums next to him lets him know he understands.</p><p>“I won’t try to thank you, then,” he replies, still playing with Felix’s fingers, though this feels strangely more intimate somehow, “I’ll just have to make it up to you…”</p><p>“Wait, wait,” Felix sits up, all too aware of how warm he’s feeling, the combination of this evening’s drinks and Sylvain’s heady presence, “My turn.”</p><p>Sylvain lets him go, but blinks at him in confusion, “Uh, sure Fe. What’s up?”</p><p>“What are we?” he blurts out, then winces at himself for both the wording and the timing. Sylvain scratches at his chin in a way that betrays his self-consciousness, “Huh, I guess we never did talk about that. To be honest, I’ve never, uh. Had to have this conversation with anyone.”</p><p>“What?” Felix sits even further up, baffled, “You’ve never...?”</p><p>“Well, usually it was more casual, more of a one-time thing, y’know?” Sylvain’s tone creeps on nervous, and now he’s fiddling with his own fingers, “I’ve never had to, like, ‘define the terms of the relationship’ or whatever, usually people just left the next morning, for better or for worse.”</p><p>“But you’ve never...dated anyone?” Felix asks, still unsure of his footing, and they’re both back to walking around the edge of the pond behind the Blaidydd estate, the one they used to clumsily skate on in the wintertime until the spring thaw came around. The ice is thick, here, though, and Felix can feel it holding his weight, and he decides he’s not afraid to look down anymore, even if it means falling in, “I mean, I’ve never either, but you already knew that.”</p><p>“You’re the first,” Sylvain looks right at him, warm brown eyes like spotlights on him, “I mean, if you want to be.”</p><p>“Yes,” Felix breathes out in equal parts relief and suspense, immediately crowding back into Sylvain’s space, though he leans back as Sylvain rests heavy palms against his sides, “Hold on, are we, uh...?”</p><p>“Boyfriends?” Sylvain says it likes he’s testing it out, eyes darting across Felix’s face, “Does that, uh, work for you?”</p><p>“It works,” Felix says simply, and then he’s kissing Sylvain properly, not like those sweet little pecks Sylvain gives him in the morning before he leaves, no. He holds Sylvain’s face in both of his hands and sits up on his knees above him on the couch, tilting his head up so he can seal their lips together, like a promise. Sylvain kisses him back, holding him steady, and he doesn’t pull away like he usually does. Felix tries not to feel exasperated as he’s turned into veritable putty by Sylvain just holding him and kissing him skillfully, but it seems like this is where he’s at in his life. He’s pulled gently down when he feels the angle of his knees getting uncomfortable, and then he’s just, no big deal, sitting right in Sylvain’s lap. From here, Sylvain’s gaze on him is almost too strong, and he turns his head, feeling a traitorous flush rise over his face, “Quit staring at me like I’m a prize or something,” he scoffs, fighting the urge to cross his arms. Sylvain just smiles at him, the jerk, “You won’t let me admire you? Really? After all that? After you stood up for me like that, and now you’re being so c—”</p><p>“Don’t you dare call me cute,” he frowns, reaching to hold Sylvain’s jaw in his hand, and <em>that</em> shuts him up pretty damn effectively, Sylvain swallowing as he glances between Felix’s hand and his face. He grows slowly aware of a few things: one, that Sylvain definitely reacted strangely to that, but he’s not telling him to stop, and two, that he’s <em>definitely</em> getting hard underneath him.</p><p>“Upstairs?” Sylvain manages, very clearly trying not to squirm beneath him, and he nods and gets up off him, only for Sylvain to all but drag him up not one, but two flights of stairs and right up to his room.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Back at it again after *checks notes* exactly seven months, somehow. Oops.<br/>ANYWAYS we're here, apologies for the tension in this bad boy, but I promise it'll pay off. Also maybe we'll learn what happened to good ole Sylvain someday...(in the next chapter of this extra special two chapter installment, maybe)<br/>They are definitely going on dates, and in his head Sylvain was calling them dates, meanwhile Felix is just like "ugh I can't say no to you when you do puppy dog eyes so I GUESS I'll go places with you and pretend I'm not obviously enjoying myself"<br/>Sylvain tries to pay Rodrigue because he doesn't know how else to say "Thank you for not being nearly as shitty of a parent as my dad."<br/>Next chapter is Sylvian's POV, oh boy.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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